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“BUT THE FISH?” DUN tried not to stutter.
“Pardon?”
“Fish.” Facing the Alpha it was all Dun could muster. So far his day had not worked out at all how he’d planned.
“I think for all concerned here, you’ll need to be just a little clearer.”
“Gone. They’re all gone.”
“The fish?”
Ardg, despite winning his role as village Alpha in combat, had spent many years in his position perfecting his diplomacy and forbearance against, what some would consider, extreme odds.
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
The low muttering next to Ardg was Myrch, the advisor, but it was too quiet for Dun to hear.
“That is worrying. We will investigate the matter of the fish in due course. We’re glad you came, Dun; we wanted to talk to you. About another matter.” He paused. “There’s something you can do for us, for everyone.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Ardg replied simply. “It has come to our attention that some old neighbors of ours, the Machine-folk, have gone very quiet. They are not near neighbors—they live far upstream—but we have not had a whisker-twitch of them for some time.”
Dun and Padg listened intently but still weren’t sure where they might come into it themselves. After all, they were the first to realize that in terms of the tribe, they were very small reeds in a very big basket.
“We usually meet them once a cycle at the tribes-moot fair,” the Alpha continued. “They have occasionally missed a cycle; some tribes do sometimes; it isn’t unusual. However, they send traders here all the time but no one has bumped into any of them for nearly an eon and now, pieces of found-tech are making their way here, brought by River-folk. That is troubling.”
Dun twitched. From his tone, what the Alpha said was true, but equally, there was something he wasn’t saying. He tried to think of what he knew of the Machine-folk. They came to the tribes-moots, of course, bringing some kind of clever mechanical toy or more often beautiful and useful pieces of rare metal. There were rumors about them being the custodians of wonderful machines. They could predict the future, could read your mind, that kind of thing and more. Dun was starting to realize that most of what he knew was conjecture and rumor; that was going to be of little help to him. Dun furrowed his brow. Not enough to go on.
“The tribe needs to send a small hunting party to check that all is well. We have chosen you, Dun, to fulfill this task, and you must choose who will go with you. Also, you must decide what provisions and equipment you need to fulfill your task. This will be provided by the tribe. Consider this wisely. Tonight there is feasting for Old Gryr; he has hung up his hunting spear this cycle, and it is time to celebrate his victories. Tomorrow we will talk again. Until then you must speak of this to no one.”
“But, why choose me? There are plenty of older, smarter, tougher folk than me,” Dun said
“There are. It is you we have chosen, nonetheless.” Again, there was more that Ardg wasn’t saying, but his tone brooked no argument.
“Mother and the little ones? Who will take care of them? Since Father...”
“The tribe will keep your people safe, rest assured, young Dun.”
“May I go and think about it? It’s ... a lot.”
“We would expect no less.”
***
“IT’S A LOT...” HE DIDN’T finish his sentence in the tent. He didn’t finish it as he stumbled outside. He couldn’t finish it later, as he wandered through the village. There was just “a lot”. A lot in his head. A lot of fear about what he was getting into. A lot he didn’t know, and that frightened him most of all. There were many, many pieces to this puzzle, and he only had one or two. He felt like he was walking straight into the jaws of some horrible cave hunting predator. Something that sat with its jaws wide open and waited. Waited till someone was right on its tongue and then...
A pain seared through Dun’s leg. Padg was laughing.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Well, you’ve been such great company today, I had to entertain myself somehow.”
“Ow,” Dun said again, more quietly this time. He sat and rubbed his shin.
“So,” Padg said. Half-question, half-statement.
“So?”
Padg left a gap in the conversation that a cart could’ve been pulled through. Then, as Dun was drawing breath to reply, he said as quickly as he could, “So are you going to take me with you on this stupid errand or what?”
“Oh. That.”
“Oh! Yes of course that. What have you been brooding but not talking to me about, for gods’ know how long?”
“Sorry,” Dun said, back-footed. “I didn’t know if you’d want to.”
“Hmm...the biggest adventure of either of our lives and you’re not sure if I’d want to? Did it ever occur to you that you need to take someone to prevent you getting your miserable hide eaten or lost?”
“Well, yes.”
“And so?”
“So?”
“You still haven’t asked me!”
“Oh. Sorry. Will you come with me?”
“I might be busy...”
Dun sprung on Padg shouting “ratbag!” and they rolled over the ground, crashing into a fence and earning a stern “hey!” from its owner. The play fight lasted some time, until Padg got the better of his old friend and sat astride his neck. Dun tapped his leg in a gesture of defeat. They sat on the ground panting.
“You know it’s going to be really dangerous?” Dun said.
“Yes?” Padg replied.
“No, I mean really dangerous.”
“Come on,” Padg said. “Let’s work while we talk. I know a secret Myconid-folk cave a good walk from here. No one goes there; there are good pickings, and it means you’re not going back empty-handed to your mother if there’s no fish.”
“Ever the practical one, eh?”
“I just know your mother. She scares me.”
So the friends walked and talked, keeping air-senses open for anyone else near, but Padg’s cave, just as he’d said, was some way from the village. The passage was accessed by squeezing through a damaged grating at floor level, just large enough for the two friends. Padg was right; a full-grown adult would not fit. Sometime after all sound of the village and the river had died away, Dun began again.
“I don’t think I’m explaining this well. By dangerous I mean, endangering-the-whole-tribe dangerous. More, if that were possible.”
“How do you know? The dreams?”
“Not the dreams exactly. At least, not what’s in them. It’s just a feeling I get when I’m in the dream. And now, when I’m awake too.”
“What kind of dangerous? You know, I wouldn’t let you go alone. Death doesn’t bother me; I’ve been trained as a hunter. So have you.”
“Not death, at least not just death. Worse than that, somehow. It’s really not that clear in the dreams.”
“Great. Already I’m not enjoying the role of ‘Foreseer’s companion’. You get to scare the hairs off me and then say, ‘Oh, it’s really not that clear. Just worse than death.’ Great.”
“Listen, I’m not very good at this yet. I’m just saying I hope you know what you’re agreeing to before you get too far in.”
“You haven’t really agreed yourself yet, from what I remember in the Moot-hall,” Padg reminded Dun.
“True. But I think I have to. You’ve got a choice.”
“Not if you’re going.”
And so it was decided.
***
THE FIRST TWO MEMBERS of the party to hunt and find the Machine-folk sat in the warmth of the Moot-hall and listened to the village skald, Ebun, sing the Ballad of Yarra and Jaris. No one knew how old the song was, but it was old indeed. They’d heard its strains scores of times since being small; it was a favorite at festivals and feasts, but somehow this time there was a new romance to it; a frisson of knowing that they were on the verge of the kind of journey that was worthy of a song.
Ballad of Yarra and Jaris
In the place of long ago, outside the egg upon its back
Yarra looked upon the deep—and her shimmered hair was black
Resplendent in the void and deep—and her shimmered hair was black.
Jaris came and warmed her heart—he came to her along the track
Came from the deep and warmed her heart—he came to her along the track.
They loved as one an eons breadth—and half was warm and half was black
They loved as none before or since—and half was warm and half was black.
And then a one came in between—she felt her heart begin to crack
The darkest face came in between—she felt her heart begin to crack.
Then he was gone and never seen—and none was warm and all was black
He faded went and never seen—and none was warm and all was black.
Then we climbed back inside the egg—how long to wait till he came back
Returned ourselves inside the egg—how long to wait till he came back?
Dun heard no more of the ballad that night as the strain overtook him and he slept. Padg hadn’t the heart to wake him.
